Whispers In The Dark
by Penname.Of.Doom
Summary: Max Ride/Supernatural. When the Dean and Sam’s father died he told them about a sister they never knew they had. They find Max soon enough and just as quickly, they all find out that the boy’s weren’t the only ones who where looking for her. AU
1. Chapter 1

Chapter No

_**Whispers In The Dark**_

_**Chapter No. 1 -- Nothin' Good About Goodbye**_

"_No. No. No. No. No. No! Don't go saying shit like that! You are not going to die. So stop saying you are and just wait 'till Sammy get's back with some help," Dean Winchester shouted angrily towards his severely injured Father. _

"_Dean, stop lying to yourself," order his Father, with a harsh tone that stopped Dean's raving for the moment. _

_Dean remained silent as he took the time to once again examine his Father's horribly disfigured body. His stomach twisted at the pool of blood on the floor that surrounded the both of them like a moat; that continued to grow by the second. He glanced down at his hands that were completely covered in his Father's blood, as he tried to apply even more pressure to the wound he was already pressing as hard as physically possible against. _

_Entranced by the bright red, Dean became lost in his thoughts as he tired to deny with his whole being that his father was going to die; that there was no ritual that existed in the world that would allow Dean to save his Father. That he was going to have to accept that this time he was truly loosing his Father, for good. _

_Dean snapped out his daze when he heard the sound of two heavy pieces of metal grinding against each other. He went on high alert. He swore to himself if that mother fucking demon decided to came back then he was going to use the Cobalt on it, despite the fact that the last shot in the gun was already booked and registered to be shot through the new Head Demon's head. _

_Only when Sam came sprinting around the corner did Dean slightly relax. He tensed right back up again when he looked back down at his Father's face and saw that he was struggling to breath and his eyes were barely open. _

_Sam skidded to a halt beside his brother on the floor, not caring that he sent the blood everywhere; Dean didn't even flinch when some of it went across his face, he just stared intently as his Father's face, soaking in what he could of his Father's face and storing it away in his memory bank while he still had the chance. Sam soon got in on the action and pressed down on a wound that Dean wasn't able to cover, his hands quickly becoming coated in blood. _

_The boy's Father acknowledged that both his sons where here and it was time to say what he needed to say while he still the chance and the ability to communicate with them. He tried clearing his throat to grab their attention. He was shocked when both of them instantly responded and looked his right in the eye, giving him their undivided attention. _

"_Have you boy's got my latest notebook?" the Father questioned. _

_As soon as he had finished speaking he began wheezing for air. He was surprised at how much energy it had taken him to speak that one mere sentence; but he did take into account at the toll it was going to take on him to get this across to his sons._

"_Now's not that time to be crappin' on about some old note book, Dad!" _

"_Dean, shut the fuck up already!" Sam shouted out of frustration at his brother. "No, we haven't got it. Where is it?" _

"_I-it's back at the ho-," the Father was beginning to wheeze with every breath that he took. _

"_Shhh. It's back at the hotel?" Sam soothed his Father, not wanting to see him going through any more pain than necessary. _

_Dean's clenched his jaw, keeping back a very large stream of curses that would most likely work; he hated the situation more then he hated demons in general. _

"_T-there's more…" _

"_What else is there, huh? You want to spill all the secrets you've never thought we weren't enough to hear? Sorry Pop's, but it looks like you aren't going to have time!" Dean had been unable to hold it. _

_Sam growled and shot daggers at Dean, warning him for the very last time to keep his big mouth shut and let their Father finish talking. Obviously whatever the Father was trying to tell them had to be important if he wasn't going to carry this secret to his grave, along with the many others that he hadn't shared. _

_Dean let go of his Father's wound and leant back slightly; closing his eyes and taking a deep breath and running his hands through his hair as he rushed to calm himself down. Sam took no notice of what Dean was doing and continued to fire questions at his Father. _

"_Dad! What else is there?" _

"_Sam, you and Dean have to find…" The Father began to slowly close his eyes, welcoming death as he slowly felt the sensation of it slowly working its way through his system. _

_Dean came back into the conversation and started off where Sam had left off. "The notebook?"_

"_No. A person!" Even at his deathbed his Father was annoyed at his son's manner of intelligence. _

"_Who, specifically?"_

"_Are they in the notebook?" _

_Sam shot out random questions. The second one received a nod._

"_Tell us who, damn it!" snapped Dean once more. _

_Using the last remains of his strength the Father thrust open his eyes to get one last look at his sons and coughed out with his last few breaths, "You have to find her! The w-world depends on it!"_

"_Who the fuck is 'her'?" Dean asked softer, finally admitting to himself that the next words that his Father spoke were going to be his last so he might as well pay attention._

"_Your sister." With those final words, the Father finally gave up and gratefully greeted the chance pf finally being reunited with his wife. _

_**3 Days Later…**_

The Boys had found the hotel no problem. The actual trouble was trying to figure out where their recently deceased Father had hidden the damn thing.

So far they had gone through the whole room that he had been staying in, yet they had come up with nothing. And so they were forced to wait their until they found the book; stuck in the pits of their own misery and unable to escape.

Dean hadn't really said anything and was trying to deny that he had actually given stuff about his Father dying. Like he didn't give a stuff about having a long lost sister that he had just found out about it. Sam was at least attempting to get his head around it, but so far he was doing a rather low-grade job.

It had just started raining and Dean's gaze was fixed on the TV trying to make pictures out of the hotel's fuzzy reception, while Sam stared out the window, desperately trying to figure out where his Father might have hidden the notebook.

Sam reached a decision and decided that it was time to crack the nut, before the shell got any tougher.

"Dean, did you know that we had a sister?"

"Nope."

"God, Dean. You do this every time. Whenever something's to hard to face you seize up just because you don't want to deal with it! Your afraid to admit that you might be scared of something normal!" Sam purposefully was gunning for a big reaction.

"If you say so…" Dean lazily looked over his shoulder at Sam.

Dean sighed and continued on, "'Sides Sam, if we can't find this damn book than we can kiss good bye any chance of ever seeing our long lost sister."

Sam was beginning to finally feel his bad mood that he had being hovering on all day start to sink in, "I know, Dean."

"Okay, just pointing it out."

There was silence for a few minutes but Dean broke it, "You know if this sister chick of ours is hot then I am seriously going to b-"

"Are you purposefully trying to piss me off?" Sam rubbed the bridge of his nose and kept his eyes open to glare at Dean.

"Mission complete," Dean chuckled before a loud noise and announcement demanded his attention and sucked him back into watching the TV.

Sam sighed and sat down on the edge of one of two king beds. He gazed long and hard at the cheesy hotel spread, with its bad colours and horrible patterns that went out of date in the late 1800's maybe. He got feed up with that and went to slam his head into the pillow but his head collided with something hard.

He jerked right back up, not letting out any sounds of pain, he glanced over to Dean to see if he had heard the collision of the two hard surfaces; but Dean's eyes remained glued to the TV.

Sam cautiously moved his hands under the pillow, figuring that's where the object was. When he gripped it he pulled it out slowly and was met by a tatty looking old notebook that filled to the brim with newspaper cuttings.

"I found it!" Sam voiced his discovery to Dean.

Dean instantly leapt up and crossed the room to where Sam was sitting on the bed with book in lap just staring at it. He stopped by the bed's side. So that when Sam opened it he would have a good view of the content, which looked like it was millions of newspaper cuttings and even a few feathers and other things stuck in here and there.

Dean grew impatient and growled at Sam, "Gonna open it or you gonna wait all day for it to open itself?"

Snapping out of it, Sam opened the first page and looked down. His eyes widened at the picture and the wording…all of it really. Dean was just as shocked. Both of them had even managed to stop breath.

On the inside was a picture of their mother holding twin, a boy and a girl. The boy was Sam and the girl was apparently named Alexandra Winchester.

What really caught their attention was that the baby girl had a pair of wings sprouting from her back and the headline under the photo read, '**Parent's Desperate Plea For Their Little Angel To Be Returned!'**

Dean rubbed his eyes and gained some composure before Sam did and flipped the book to the last page where the latest headline glared up at them, 'Bird Children Spotted Again Over New York!'

Sam looked up at a grinning Dean and blinked Dean grinned back and clapped his hands together genuinely happy, causing Sam to jump. "New York, Baby! Yea Ha! Sammie, finally some decent bars and some chicks and we are some of the seriously luckiest pricks in the world!"

"Yeah, lucky…" Sam murmured as he fingered a humongous feather that was larger than any feather that could belong to a bird. It was beautiful how the slight gold flecks in the under toned tan of the feather caught the light.

He had a sneaking feeling that it belong to his long lost twin…the one that he was about to find in New York City.

**If you like it, Review. If not then review any way and I can work my ass of trying to make it better so you will like it. The Flock will come in next chapter. **


	2. Chapter 2

_**Whispers In The Dark**_

_**Chapter No. 2 – In Fate's Hand **_

"_For God's sake, Dean! Turn that damn music down already! I can't even hear myself think!"_ Sam roared out of pure frustration at his brother, trying to be heard over the impossibly loud heavy metal music that Dean currently had playing.

Dean ignored Sam and continued to tap the steering wheel to the beat, while he tried to imitate the freakishly high-pitched male singers voice, only to end up sounding like a wannabe opera singer who had swallowed a choking seagull. The heavy bass pulsated through out the car, making it shake in time with each heavy slam of the guitar chords.

Sam would have used his hands to cover his ears if they weren't already in use by holding his Father's Journal in place, stopping the millions of newspaper cuttings from falling out. When he looked down at those crisp pages, he saw years of dedication and work by his Father; tracking down all those articles and they were all about the one person.

**Alexandra Winchester. **

Just thinking that name sent Sam's brain into hyper drive. How was it possible that all these years his Father had managed to hide his twin sister from him? How had Dean not remembered Sam ever not having a twin sister? Wasn't he meant to be some kind of psychic and having a twin wasn't he meant to be able to sense his sister's thoughts?

"Ugh…" Sam groaned out loud; running his hands through his hair and made him self keep reading the journal even though he just wanted to through it out the car window and never see it again.

There were just so many questions, but not enough answers. Most of the things that Sam had so far learnt about his sister came from the information printed onto the pages of his Father's Journal. The clues were there, but like any good mystery, they made absolutely no sense.

There was one other thing that no matter how hard he tried Sam could not get off his mind. He wanted it gone. He didn't want to think about something like that. But it clung to his brain refusing to let go. It was hurting him. It was causing him to lose focus and he couldn't do that. Not when he had a job to do.

Coming through the mist and shaking his head to get rid of any lingering thoughts, Sam was surprised to find golden silence.

No more music.

'_No more music…Dean!' _Connecting the two together, Sam turned around in his seat to see if anything had happened to his brother.

Dean was fine. He had even started to pay attention to the page in the journal Sam had tried to point out to him earlier. The page in question was covered in their Father's messy scrawl, which was quite a challenge to translate into legible English. If Sam didn't already know how serious the information was on the page he would have been pissing himself with laughter. The look of concentration on Dean's face was just that funny, no, it was priceless. Sam purposefully made sure to burn it into his memory forever. Dean with the face of a chipmunk's confused ass, such a change from the face that usual got all the girls.

Dean eventually gave on trying to read the impossible scripture and just as Sam predicted, came crawling to him for help. "Sam do you know how to make sense of this bullshit?"

Sam was having trouble deciding between making Dean pay for ignoring him earlier or giving in to his pride and rather large urge to go blurting out everything he had just recently discovered by himself, without any help from Dean at all. It was a tough choice, but in the end the temptation of pride was too strong to overcome.

"Why else do you think I've been trying to get attention over the past _half hour_? Not just because I was shouting at you to turn your damned music down!"

"'Cause you were trying to compliment my supremely amazing soprano solo?" Dean chortled away at his brothers reaction to his come back: Sam just made a 'yuck' face, avoiding the urge to shudder at the memory of such unnatural sounds.

"You wish Dean. You wish." Dean just went on to shake his head, not trying the least to curb his full on laughter.

Five minutes later and Dean was still giggling like a possessed schoolgirl. Sam finally gave into his temper and lashed out violently towards Dean. He wrenched his whole body into the outburst of anger. Shoving Dean hard against the side of his seat and jerking the steering wheel to the side.

"What the fuck Sam? Are you purposefully trying to get us killed? Have we not had enough near death experiences this year for your liking?" Dean raged, definitely come down from his high of rainbows and ponies.

"No, Dean. I'm just trying to stop you from humiliating yourself any further!"

"Well, it don't look that way ta' me; it's more like you're on some kind of _freaking_ _suicide mission_!"

"Stuff you, Dean."

"You know you can swear in the car Sam." He couldn't actually tell, but Sam could have sworn that Dean was chiding him about…_swearing. _"Not like there are lil' kids hiding out on the back seat." Dean actually turned around, pretending to check.

"When you've finished," Sam tried not to sound bitter, but just couldn't help it, "jackass, I need to tell you something important."

"Look I already know about you batting for the other team, so it's alright. You no longer have to worry about being a closet poof from now on." Sam seethed, resiting the temptation to jerk the steering wheel again.

"Would you just try to be serious for 1 freaking minute?"

"Alright, I'm cool. Look completely serious." It was miserable result when Dean tried to smooth his face over, worse than his chipmunk face, this one was more like a skunk.

Sam hissed through his teeth, "There's a message from Dad in there!" He buried his forehead into his hands, massaging his temple as he tried to get rid of some of his anger.

Dean stopped laugh about a minute later, Sam confused by the silence looked up through his hair to see Dean staring at him. "What?"

"Don't tell me what!" Dean snapped, finally sounding serious.

"Okay, why are you staring at me like that?" As usual, what Sam meant to say, in his head, never did manage coming out of his mouth.

"I'm trying to figure out what you just told me!"

"I said there was a message!" It was dealing with a bloody toddler.

"Yes I know that you said that, but what'd ya mean there's message?"

"I mean that Dad wrote about where he last tracked Alex to!" Sam retorted.

"Wait, which Alex?" A look of great alarm crossed Dean's face.

"Dean, what other freaking Alex would I be talking about?" Sam raised both his head and an eyebrow at his brother, waiting for him to fill in the missing gap of information.

Dean flicked his eyes away rather quickly Sam's and intently focused on the boring road ahead. Adding to his rather suspicious behaviour was shuffling in his seat and gulping quite loudly. All signs of nervousness that he made no attempt to hide.

"Hopefully not the one I'm thinking about," Dean muttered under his breath.

"God! Did it ever occur to you, not everything has to revolves itself around your sex life!"

"That's why I am hoping Dad wasn't tracking the Alex I'm thinking about!"

"I'm not going to even go down that path!"

"Sammy, but seriously, what if my Alex was…incest is illegal right?"

"Yes, Dean, incest is illegal and while you were screwing over our sister did you happen to notice a pair of freaking bird wings on her back or were you just to preoccupied with downstairs?"

Sam could not believe his brother. Once again Dean's face was scrunched up in concentration as he searched through his vast data base of one night stand victims probably trying to remember if one of the girls had actual 'wings' on her back. The idiot had even opened his mouth to answer Sam, but had stopped right in his tracks when he saw that look that he was been given.

"Will you get your perverted mind out of the gutter and try to focus, please?" Sam was about reach his wits end.

Dean feebly tried to defend himself, "You brought it up."

"Yes and despite how _appealing_ this topic sounds, I am desperately trying to move on!" At first Dean thought Sam was been serious and widen his eyes and looked his brother up and down, trying to scan his brother for any traces of drugs.

"Oh…you were..." Dean finally realised.

"Yeah, genius. About time something got through that thick skull of yours!"

"Whatever. Just get this bullshit out it the open and tell me already!"

"Fine. Dad said that he last saw Alex in New York!"

Soon as the words had left Sam's mouth, Dean had slammed on the breaks of the car, not even caring for once that he could be damaging some part of it, and rounded up is brother. "You wait until now to tell me this?"

"Well I couldn't earlier."

"Whatever!" Dean shouted as he gritted his teeth and clenched the steering wheel. Ignoring the beeping protests of the cars behind him, he jerked the car into a sharp u-turn and headed started the long road back to New York.

Muttering curses to Sam all the merry way.

_**Five hours later…Finally in New York City**_

"Dean, what are we doing here?_" _Sam asked with a tone that suggested that he was insulting his brother's intelligence.

"I'll tell you what we're doing here! We're following your flipping riddles and clues. Some wild goose chase that's gotten us no closer to finding us 'Alex'. That's what we're doing! And that last one? The ouijaboard? Well the address you gave me? Guess what, it leads here! So I am sorry if your disappointed Sam! But this were we are and we god damn going to check it out!"

At the mention of the ouija board, Sam couldn't help but think back to the first hour that they had arrived in New York. The pair of them had gone to a restaurant that had supposedly been attacked by a whole group of children with wings, from there they had gone to a church, a grim beach and the latest a toy store where Sam had seen a message on an ouija board.

"Now hurry up and grab some flashlights. I'll get the rest of the stuff." Sam rolled his eyes at his brother's impatience.

Sam flicked his hair out of his eyes and looked forward at what appeared to be millions upon millions headstone in rows and other monuments that were a tribute to the dead. Yeah, they had been lead to a graveyard, by an ouija board answering their fathers most confusing riddle yet, when Dean spoke it out loud. Then to brighten up Dean's day even further, by the time that they'd gotten to the cemetery it was late and dark.

"Oh and make sure you grab that damn board," Dean shouted at Sam, from the back of he car. Sam could see in the rear view mirror that Dean had the trunk popped up. While looking back his eyes slowly wondered back down to the ouija board that was safely nestled in between the mountains of rubbish. Sam grabbed it and sat back in his seat once more.

He jumped when he heard Dean closing the trunk.

Reaching under his seat he grabbed the flashlight and opened the car door, getting out an then slamming it shut, which earned him a dirty look from Dean who came strolling past him, shoving something into Sam's hand, which made him loose his grip on the ouija board.

Leaving the board where it was for the moment Sam walked with Dean up to the gates of the cemetery, which were surprisingly locked. "This has to be the first time we've been to a place and it's been-"

"Locked?" Dean finished Sam's sentence for him.

"Thought I was supposed to be the psychic."

Dean snorted. "After this? Not bloody likely."

Sam ignored Dean's comment and went to retrieve the ouija board before he forgot about it entirely.

**A/N: Change of Plans: the Flock shall not be featuring in this chapter, but they shall be coming along so, no need to panic, they are part of the plot. This is only half the chapter and don't bug me for the next one please! But I shall request another 5 reviews for the next chapter. **

**Thank you**


	3. Chapter 3

_**Whispers In The Dark **_

_**Chapter No.3 – I Like To Move It - Part 1**_

"Got the board?" Dean turned his head so his brother could see just how annoyed he was.

"Yes. Just like every other time you've asked me in the last 3 minutes," Sam curtly replied, gripping the board and preying for strength.

Dean spun around and whipped his hand out of his pocket, shining the flashlight in Sam's eyes. "I don't like your tone, solider! Now straighten up before I report you for mouthing back to a superior officer."

Sam scrunched up his face at the sudden flash of light, unable to raise a hand because carrying the damn board required both upper appendages – it was a lot heavier than it looked. His face remained screwed up while he was trying to remember if Dean had drunk anything recently. But there was nothing he could recall...

While Sam had been pondering, Dean had crossed the distance between them and was making a display of knocking on Sam's forehead. "Sam? Sammie? Yoo-hoo, anybody home? Can you guess what movie that was from?"

"You can stop now, Dean," Sam suggested, glancing up at the fist that was hovering just above his forehead, mentally daring to make contact just _one _more time.

"But, it's the only way I get your attention these days. Drag you back from your internal moral debates." Dean circled Sam as he spoke, a gleam of boyish mischief twinkling in his eyes as he sized up his baby brother.

Sam knew that look and tried moving out the way, but it was too late. Dean already had him in a headlock and pinned to the ground.

"Now, you wanna tell me which movie that was from?" Dean chuckled as Sam struggled to free himself from Dean's fairly grip.

Sam brought his leg back and caught Dean in his knee, sending him to the ground with unholy _thump._

"I don't know." Sam, gasped for air, his face was been forced into the stone, making breathing uncomfortable.

Dean chuckled darkly. "Well, I guess I can't blame you for not inheriting the superior memory."

"Great. Whatever you say," Sam coughed. "Now let me up, jackass."

Dean relinquished his hold on Sam and took a step back to have a better look at the cemetery. Scanning for any signs of demons or ghosts; the usual inhabitants of a graveyard.

Sam cracked his neck making Dean swirl around at the sound. Sam just looked at his brother. He really was beginning to wonder if they were actually related.

"Dean, have you been inhaling gun powder again?"

"No. Why?"

"'Cause last time you did, you thought I was a possessed teletubie coming to steal your hair," said Sam with a completely straight face.

Dean remembered that night with absolute clarity. "Point taken."

"So, have you?" Sam prodded.

"Eh." Dean made a so-so gesture with his hand.

"You better be joking."

"Now, why would I ever joke about something like that, Sam?"

Sam opened his mouth to reply but was cut short by a high pitched cackle coming from the north, followed by a large burst of wind. The brothers had probably just found what they were looking for. Making Dean's day at how easy this job was going to be. The thingy-ma-jigy they were meant to find had just revealed itself to them. Oh and things just kept getting better. A trail of eerie lights lead had just popped up all over the place.

Sam on the other hand was thinking something entirely different to Dean, as usual. He thought that it was too easy. It wasn't like their father to give them as easy directions as he had, let alone, very easy clues. No. This had to be a trap.

Sam waved his hands at Dean, trying to get his attention. "Psst," he hissed.

'What?' Dean mouthed, irritated that Sam was 'thinking' again.

"It's a-"

"Don't say those words Sam."

Sam gave Dean a confused look. "All, I'm sayin' is that it might be a-"

"Didn't I just tell you not to say those words? Like two seconds ago?" Dean raised his eyebrow, while scowling at his brother.

"Why can't I say," Sam raised his hands, making quotation mark gestures, as he spoke, "'those words'? I've said 'em before."

"'Cause, you'll jinx me."

Sam snorted.

"You jinx yourself, Dean. And I can't believe that you're still holding that grudge. I told you not my fault that-"

"Don't you dare bring that up again either."

"What? It's not like I meant-"

"Are you on a mission to piss me off or somethin'?"

"No."

"Good. Now shut your trap and back me up." Dean pointed to a gravestone ahead of him that one of the freaky-deaky lights was hovering over. "You can go scout out what shit we're dealing with here."

Sam sighed at his brother's antics. Obligingly going over to check out the light, even though he thought it was pretty damn obvious. "Ouija board led us here, gotta be something to do with spirits," he muttered, which got him a whack in the back of the head from Dean, as he passed him in a silent crouch-frog-hopping-type walk to get to the gravestone.

Sam spun on his heels and his height and weight mixed together in the spin nearly made his tip over, but he held his ground long enough to shoot Dean the bird.

Dean wasn't paying attention. He was to busy looking down at the Colt to make sure that it was loaded and ready to tan some supernatural hide. He smiled to himself as he traced the letters imprinted onto the side of the gun. Oh yeah. He could do a lot of damage with that bad boy. With a quick glance up to check if Sam was okay, Dean soon pulled the safety trigger off and started aiming at the hoo-ha that was going on around Sam's head.

Sam had no idea what was going on. He had tried to get Dean's attention, but of course, he had been to busy making goo-goo eyes at the gun to take any notice of his brother in peril.

The float thing at first had looking like a floating candle, to Sam. The closer he got to it, the brighter it got. Nothing happened in fact, until he touched the gravestone. It had gone higher, so Sam was forced to crane his neck to see what the hell it was doing.

He was shocked, as the thing seemed to form a face, more precisely a skull. It fluttered in and out of vision range, before it came hurtling down to earth and surrounding Sam's own head.

At least Dean was paying attention now. Bad news: he was aiming the gun at both the light and Sam's head.

"Sam. Stay still." Dean edged closer to Sam, gun still aimed and ready to fire.

"What the hell do you think I'm doing?"

"What did you do to it, anyhow?"

"Nothing."

"Yeah, that floaty stuff looks like nothing."

"Seriously, all I did was touch the gravestone." That made Dean falter a little as he lowered his gun a little.

"You sure?"

Sam was about to reply but the light moved closer to his head and started making him to see white. He was also able to see that he was wrong about it being a light or even a spirit, it was more like a kind of mist, that happened to be glowing and was now trying to do something that Sam was all to familiar with. "Dean! I think it's gonna-"

"Oh hell no!" Dean cried as he also caught wind of what the thing was trying to do.

It went in though his nostrils, his ears and through his mouth. Hijacking Sam's body for a joy ride, despite all the protection charms against possession, Sam was still a goner.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean shouted, running fully over to his brother as Sam hit the floor in a fit of convulsions. He knelt down as he stopped and grabbed on to Sam's thrashing head to prevent it from colliding with the granite slab of the gravestone.

Looking down at his brother's face, Dean saw that Sam's eyes where shut. Raising two fingers, he lifted them up and saw that they were glowing white beneath the lids. Screwing up his face, he racked his brains trying to remember a kind of possession that had ever had white glowing eyes. He didn't have much time to think as Sam's eyes shot open and his eyes began to bleed. Dean looked around for some kind of material, eyes landing on his shirt he grabbed it and started to rip strips up.

With the strip of his shirt, Dean wiped away from Sam's face and at the same time reached into his back pocket for his canister of holy water. Gripping his brothers head and re-adjusting it, Dean unscrewed the cap of the canister with his other head and positioned it over Sam's open mouths, which was sucking in lung fulls of air.

Just as Dean was about to tip in the holy water, Sam spoke in a raspy voice, _"Winchester?"_

Sam's body convulsed once more and knocked Dean off his feet. Sitting back up quickly, he saw that he was about and inch from his brothers face, which was cocked and looking at his. The glowing Sam's eyes that close up looked like a mist inside his eyes, Dean took that time to observe.

"_Are you or are you not a Winchester?_" Dean heard his brother's voice, but with all his experience as a hunter knew it wasn't really him.

Dean grinned at it/Sam/light thing as he replied, "Who wants to know?"

"_Speak not riddles child. Time is limited."_

"I don't just go around telling my name to everyone you know. What kind of hunter would that make me?"

Sam's face sneered and retracted from Dean's face by another inch. _"Do not play a game that you do not understand child."_

Dean nodded and furrowed his eyebrows a little as he finally grasped onto the gun that he had been reaching for the whole time he'd been talking with the possessed Sam.

Dean gripped the gun tight and swung it up faster, shoving it under Sam's head and grabbing his brother into a headlock, faster than he could even blink. "Checkmate," he snarled into Sam's ear.

The thing laughed at Dean. _"You are a Winchester. Tell me, the one I possess, is he Samuel Winchester?"_

"Yes," Dean gritted out, not liking where the thing was taking this conversation.

"_Are you the youngest of all Winchester siblings?"_

"No, bitch. I'm the eldest and the one with a gun cocked to your goddamn head."

"_You do not appear to be the tallest."_

The little floaty shit just got personal. "Yeah, but I make up for that in other areas," he spat at the thing.

"_Attributes matter, not. You must not taint this area any longer. Resting area of the One's child must be protected. The Twin must disturb child of The One eternal slumber."_

"What is it with you things and Sam, huh?"

"_He is the Twin."_

"Not news to me. But what the hell you want with him, eh?"

"_He is to be destroyed, for he is the destroyer."_

Dean sighed, shaking his head. Here he was hoping that tonight would bring up something a little more interesting. Damn demons could never come up with anything original.

"Anything else?"

"_I give you the option to leave now and continue your mission until the arrival of the One."_

"You know what? That just isn't gonna work into my schedule, so I guess it's just kill you now and then leave later, with my brother in tact."

"_Then, by the power vested in my by the High Priestess of Isis, that the Twin and Elder Winchester be sentenced to death for disturbing the Child of the-"_

"Yeah, yeah. Say good night Gracie!" Dean gripped Sam's hair and retched his jaw open, in a massive effort to dribble a little holy water into his brothers mouth.

The thing started chocking as Sam's body swallowed the holy water. It came out like it went in, but slower, like the holy water was making it die while still inside Sam.

The glow died from Sam's eyes and when the thing was finally out, Dean shot the thing and didn't even bother to check to make sure that it was dead. He focus was on Sam who was coughing up pieces of white fluffy stuff. "Gross..." he muttered, not even wanting to clean it up. Sam could do it when he came around.

Sam's mouth burnt as he came to. Oh, how he wanted to go back to sleep. His stomach was retching and made him curl up in pain. What was happening to him? All he remembered from the dream was the grave...the grave.

He shot up, nearly knocking Dean over for a hundredth time that night. "Sorry," he spluttered.

"Sammy?" Dean had his hands on Sam's shoulders and was shaking him a little as he tried to look into Sam's eyes, make sure that there was nothing left of the thing. "You okay Sammy?"

"Fine Dean."

"Good. You got some stuff on your shirt by the way." Dean slapped Sam on the back and stood up stretching and looking around to see if there where any more 'things' hanging around. There had been a whole trail of them earlier but they all seemed to have disappeared.

Sam looked down at his shirt and saw the residue of the mist. Dean had killed it after all. Blinking he looked around him and saw what the mist had been thinking of guarding.

Sam got up slowly and staggered in the direction of the crypt. Dean looked back and saw Sam on the move. Groaning at his brothers determination to get himself killed, he ran back to gravestone and grabbed the stuff that had been dropped earlier and galloped after Sam.

"Sam where the hell you headed?"

"Sam?"

"SAM!" Dean's shouts where unheard by Sam's ears.

He was studying the crypt the best he could in the limited moonlight. Growing frustrated at the lack of being able to make out the name of the person lying inside it. When Dean arrived, beside him he quickly snatched the flashlight off his brother and shone it on the door of the crypt.

"What you trying to pull Sam?" Dean roared.

Sam's vision was growing more blurred by the second. He couldn't read the fancy letters. Desperate to know he shouted," Dean what does the inscription say?"

Dean growled but read it out to Sam. "Something Ride. May she rest in peace and find a place in heaven."

"And?"

"And what, Sam?"

"Date of death?"

"Uh..." Dean hunched his shoulders and stepped under the little roof of the crypt. "Bout three years ago."

Not good. Sam sighed and slumped down next to the crypt. Feeling his energy draining. Heck, he nearly felt like crying.

"Sam?"

"It's over Dean."

"What do you mean it's over? What the fuck are you going on about?"

"I think that's Alex's grave."

"Can't be Sam. Last name is Winchester. Remember?" Dean shook his head at his brothers mistake. He really had taken a beating from the possession.

Sam risked a glance up into Dean's eyes. "I saw it Dean. Alex's last name is Ride."

Dean's glanced between his brother and the crypt. "No way Sam. I know that's not her in there."

"How Dean, huh? How? Our sister is stone cold dead in that crypt now! We're late! Three fucking years too late!"

"Did you hear what the floaty shit thing and me...discussed?"

"No," Sam muttered. Not paying attention to the question. His mind was to wrapped up in the fact that his twin was dead.

"It said that it was protecting the 'child of the one' – who might just be our sister."

Sam looked up. "So you're saying that our sister is dead?"

"No, for gods sake. I'm saying that Alex's kid is dead."

Sam's head shot up to the crypt and he asked swallowed. "She had a kid?"

"What the floaty shit-" Sam didn't stick around to listen. He was up and on his feet again.

Dean's mouth hung open. Sam was on the fucking move again! "Where you going now Sam?"

"To get the board," he called back over his shoulder.

Dean growled and didn't bother following Sam. He shoved the gun in a holster at his hip and promptly sat on the edge of the crypt. Glaring at the door. Why the fuck had he agreed to come to the cemetery?

Dean went over what had happened so far in his head. He stopped as it clicked as to why Sam was getting the board.

He sprung up from the crypt and pelted out a sprint to get to his brother.

No way was he going to use that Ouija board to go talking to a dead kid tonight.

**A/N: Been an age since the last update hasn't it? Well, then down to business... Did you like it? See anything that needs fixing? Wanna know anything? Anything at all! Lastly: Anyone feel like being a beta for this story? ;)**


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